


Doing It Wrong

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, it's sad again i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BBC offers the radio show only to Dan. Dan does what he thinks is right. So does Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing It Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Drake's song of the same title.

“Please, don’t leave me. Please.”

“Dan.”

“I can change. I won’t be weird anymore. I won’t have any more existential crises. I won’t be so mean.”

Phil exhaled slowly, sliding his gaze from the table top to the window. It was still early evening, but what little light the English clouds allowed was beginning to dip. Fluffy chunks of orange and blue were scattered across the sky. Phil admired the purples blending intricately where the colours overlapped.

“You know that’s not what this is about.”

“So tell me what it _is_ about!” Dan shouted, eyes trained on Phil and fists clenched. Red crescents formed where his nails were digging into the fleshy skin of his palm.

Phil had thought for days about how to approach this. It seemed to him now that all his well-thought-out ideas had left his brain, although he could hardly blame them. He would leave too, if he could.

‘It’s because I love you so much,' Phil thought, eyes moving from the darkening clouds to Dan’s face.

“I’m not in love with you anymore,” was what came out of his mouth. Phil listened in an outer-body experience as his own voice spoke these words he hadn’t thought, like watching back a YouTube video he couldn’t remember making.

The silence that followed was excruciating. Dan’s mouth twitched, as if fighting back words. Phil felt his autopilot taking control again, blanketing his face in a neutral expression, eyes dull as he watched Dan’s face fall. Phil had tried his best to prepare himself for this part.

Dan’s eyes turned dark and glossy, and his lips began twitching in a very different way to his containment-of-anger twitch. Phil was an expert in Dan Howell Facial Expressions and he had seen this one before, when watching a sad movie together, and during particularly depressive episodes of Dan’s. ‘Existential Crises’ as Dan fondly referred to them. Phil knew the truth. This Dan expression had also made an appearance after Phil explicitly told Dan no, he was not going to do the radio show with him.

“But- But we moved out here… to be together.” Dan stuttered over the words, lower lip quivering.

Only recently had they had moved to London on a little budget of YouTube kickbacks, with dreams of living happily ever after in each other’s arms. But for all Dan’s aggressive pessimism Phil could see he was still so young, and naïve. He didn’t understand that things were changing for him now. It was Dan who was gaining subscribers at insane rates, Dan that other big YouTube names want to collaborate with, Dan that Radio One wanted as a DJ.

Phil studied the glassy eyes he had spent so many nights wondering at, taking a moment to appreciate the raw tenderness, usually so well-concealed. It was the delicate balance of All-Things-Dan that kept Phil at his beck and call, but his kind heart was a particular favourite of Phil’s. It seemed almost ironic that it would also be the cause of all this. If Dan had just accepted the BBC’s initial offer and gone off to do his Request Show every Sunday with Phil at home, listening proudly, everything would have stayed the same.

Instead he took stupid, unnecessary steps like demanding to the producers that he and Phil are a team, that they created The Super Amazing Project together and as an extension of that Phil must be included in the position before Dan would even consider it. Dan’s intricate, confusing and beautifully selfless heart was letting Phil hold him back from all the brand new paths Dan could forge. And Phil wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I’m going out for a bit,” Phil pushed his chair out from the table, “give you time to think about-”

“No.” The finality of the word nearly pushed Phil back into his seat. Instead he paused for just a second longer, long enough for Dan to stand up and bring them face to face. Phil watched as a tear ghosted down Dan’s cheek, shimmering in the twilight. The kitchen was gloomy. Phil realised they hadn’t thought to put the lights on. And Phil must be naïve too, because he had prepared himself for Dan’s tears and anger. But he hadn’t prepared for Dan’s stubbornness, for his insubordination.

Dan gripped Phil’s arm with one hand and his cheek with the other, and Phil’s eyes were still open when Dan’s wet mouth met his lower lip.

Oh.

It took a lot of love to be able to remove Dan's hand from his cheek as gently as he did. “Dan, I can’t-”

“I don’t care.” Dan’s eyes were glazed and his cheeks red and tear-stained as he stared Phil down. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. You don’t have to be in love with me. I know you still want this.”

God, what was he saying? He really believes Phil so easily when he says he doesn’t love him? Does Dan really think he’s so unlovable? Phil is struggling with all these thoughts before he notices Dan is pulling his t-shirt over his own head, letting it drop to the floor before stepping back into Phil’s space and pressing his lips to Phil’s neck.

Phil groaned. Dan knew exactly where to apply pressure on Phil’s exposed throat to make him melt. It was becoming extremely difficult to focus with all his blood draining from his brain at once.

“Dan-” he started, but it came out in a longer drawl than he was aiming for, and he found his hands were sneaking up around Dan’s waist to hold his back, his beautifully freckled skin cold to Phil’s touch. Phil's fingers lightly traced the dots from memory.

Things had been so awkward recently. They were trying to manage their normal routines but sometimes Phil felt like he was just going through the motions. Dan was so busy all the time now, and tired. And if Dan was tired he made damn sure Phil felt tired, too. He wore him out with constant mood swings, and four am crying. Sometimes even midday crying.

Everything had come to a head when Dan revealed about the radio show, and Phil said no, and Dan couldn’t understand why and had shouted and cried like a petulant child that Phil loved to spoil except this time Phil couldn’t comfort him. Because Phil was the one that caused it. They started sleeping in separate bedrooms again and every interaction, even when they were alone, felt like they were sitting side-by-side with the camera lighting glaring in their face and 100,000 people analysing their every move.

And Phil knows, he knows he’s being weak but they had barely kissed since then, never mind-

Never mind Dan smoothing his hands over Phil’s shoulders, long fingers ruffling Phil’s hair, softly-chapped lips pressed hard to Phil’s neck. Never mind Dan’s mouth on his mouth, innocent and desperate and unbelievably sexual in ways Phil could never have imagined before meeting Dan, ways he could never imagine without him.

“Don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”

The whispers of breath tickled Phil’s neck. He felt wetness where Dan’s cheek was resting against his collarbone. And who was Phil to refuse him? This boy, the most electric thing in Phil’s life, whom Phil’s every thought revolved around like the Earth orbiting the Sun.

“We’ll go to bed right now, and tomorrow we’ll wake up and it’ll be like this never happened. Ok?”

Phil rubbed his cheek against Dan’s hair and breathed him in. “Ok.”

**Author's Note:**

> I find it difficult to self-edit so if you think something sounds awkward please let me know. I don't know why it's sad again. I went out last night. I had fun. My muse has its own ideas. I'm sorry.


End file.
